


2 Man Advantage

by beersforqueers



Series: Hockey AU [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Angst and Humor, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hockey, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 23:23:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6491602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beersforqueers/pseuds/beersforqueers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko and Sokka play hockey on the same NHL team and deal with a late-season loss the only way they know how: sex on the couch. </p><p>A sequel to In the Crease, but could stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2 Man Advantage

**Author's Note:**

> Listen you guys, my team lost tonight and I'm really broken up about it, and so this is what happened instead of homework. So, like, yeah. I'm gonna go yell about it and maybe smash something with my hockey stick, but ENJOY THE PORN. 
> 
> Also: this one's pretty profane, blame it on the fact that Sokka and Zuko are hockey bros, and hockey bros are not known for their delicacy. Also it's me. So you probably know what to expect. 
> 
> Also also: HOLY SHIT THIS IS MY 20TH FIC WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?? jk, I'm pretty pleased about hitting 20, that's more fics than years in my life *pats self on back* Keep it up, tiger (oh wait, mixing my sports here)

Coming home after a loss has to be the worst fucking thing to ever happen ever. Sokka is sure of it.

Except for maybe wet socks. He grew up in the territories: he knows the hell of wet socks on a cold January night.

So yeah, they’d lost tonight. It was the second to last game of the season, the game in a spotty run that could have guaranteed them a spot in the playoffs, and they hadn’t clinched it.

Sokka had let in 4 goals the night after a shut out, and he isn’t even sure if he has the back-to-back games or the shitty goal support to blame.

He has the nagging feeling _he_ is the only one to blame.

The thing that’s different about tonight, versus all the other nights he’s staggered upstairs in a haze of regret after a piss-poor performance on the ice, is that Zuko is right behind him. Zuko who had bagged them a beautiful second goal right at the end of the third period. He’d done his best to save their dignity, which was more than Sokka could say for himself.

“Sokka you already showered,” Zuko says when Sokka heads for the bathroom, but Sokka flips him the bird and gets under the hot water anyway.

Twenty minutes later as the warm is just starting to run out, Zuko pokes his head around the door.

“You planning on drowning yourself in there?” he asks suspiciously.

“Yes,” Sokka calls petulantly.

“You’re starting on Saturday, you can’t die yet,” Zuko deadpans, yanking back the shower curtain to glare at Sokka.

“Fuck you,” Sokka tries to yank it back, but Zuko is built like a brick shithouse and he doesn’t want to tear the curtain.

Instead he lies down in the tub and prostrates himself dramatically, “Just leave me here to _suffer_.”

Zuko stares at him impassively. “The water is getting cold,” he says.

“I _know_ ,” Sokka groans. “That’s what I _deserve_.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Zuko crouches by the side of the tub and looks down at Sokka. “It’s gonna be fine. If we win on Saturday and—“

“If everyone else loses,” Sokka finishes, “we could still make it. I _know_.” Mostly he knows in his heart that it’s not going to happen, and that if he were a fan he’s not sure he could actually watch the game go down.

But he’s not a fan, he’s the fucking starting goaltender who shit the bed, and he needs to show up and do his job.

“Help me, I’m weak,” he grouses, and Zuko makes this weird noise halfway between a laugh and a sigh as he turns the water off and hauls Sokka up out of the tub. Sokka clings to him like a lifeline, doing his best not to make this any easier for him.

Let Zuko feel the true weight of his despair.

“You’re so fucking heavy,” Zuko grumbles, and stumbles backward, dragging him, dripping wet, through the bathroom door.

 _Mission accomplished_ Sokka thinks.

Zuko eventually collapses backward onto the couch with Sokka on top of him. Sokka dimly things that the couch is going to have a giant wet spot on it, then cheers himself with the thought that this isn’t the first time.

 _Nor will it be the last_ he has to stop himself from giggling.

Now is not the time for giggling.

Now is the time for sadness.

“Fuck me, I’m depressed,” Sokka moans, poking listlessly at Zuko’s side.

“Are you using those words as an expression, or because you literally want me to fuck you out of your depression?” Zuko arches his eyebrow at Sokka, who nuzzles at his neck.

“I literally want you to fuck me,” Sokka says, and licks him.

“That was not a sexy lick,” Zuko grimaces, trying ineffectually to bat Sokka away as he presses his nose in under Zuko’s jaw.

“You smell nice,” Sokka mumbles, and bites him.

“What the fuck, _Sokka_ ,” Zuko sounds a lot less indignant now, but he’s clearly trying to hold onto his last shreds of obstinacy.

Sokka likes that about him.

He never gives up even when he knows he’s doomed.

“Zukooooo,” Sokka whines, and grinds down onto his hip. Zuko lets out a great huffing breath and tries to squirm away, but Sokka is latched onto him too tightly for anything less than surgical removal.

Like a growth. A _sexy_ growth.

Ok, so maybe Sokka should come up with a new metaphor. He’s clearly lost control of that one.

Bringing his mind back from the dangerous precipice of venereal disease, he rallies.

“There’s lube under the couch,” he whispers seductively into Zuko’s ear.

“Really?” Zuko sounds thoroughly unimpressed. “Are you just hiding tubes everywhere now? Bad enough in the pantry, but anyone could find—“

Sokka slaps a hand over his mouth. “The pantry sex was _awesome_ ,” he says sternly, “and I’m not sure I would characterize it as a tube, exactly. It has a pump top.”

“Oh my god,” Zuko’s voice is muffled by Sokka’s palm as he thumps his head back against the arm of the couch. “What the hell am I doing with you?”

“I already told you,” Sokka says patiently, sitting up to unzip Zuko’s pants. He’s still in his game day suit, fresh from the presser after the loss, and he looks hot lying there all rumpled. “You’re _fucking_ me.”

“FINE,” Zuko says, but he doesn’t actually sound that upset. Sokka knows the deal by now. Zuko just likes to fight to fight. Getting him to plow Sokka into the ground (like the ground? How far does one usually take farming/sex euphemisms?) isn’t really that hard.

 _Hahahahaha hard_ , he chortles to himself as he frees Zuko’s dick.

Zuko makes a feeble attempt to wriggle his pants further down his thighs, but Sokka squeezes his own legs around Zuko’s and won’t budge. He’s suddenly very interested in the idea of Zuko staying clothed.

“Lube,” he says bossily, and Zuko’s right hand goes questing under the couch, coming back up with a large bottle.

“This isn’t a bottle, this is a gallon drum,” he says, but lubes his fingers anyway.

“Like we don’t go through enough,” Sokka points out, but his words get sort of mangled as Zuko’s slick finger slides down the shaft of his cock.

“Fair point,” Zuko props himself up on his other elbow and mouths at Sokka’s collarbone.

There’s some awkward reconfiguring as they kiss, Zuko—unwilling to get a lube stain on his couch—trying to keep his greasy hand aloft while positioning Sokka favorably, but eventually Sokka has fingers in his ass and a smile on his face.

 _This is what dreams are made of_ he decides.

Sokka thinks Zuko would probably agree if he were allowed to use his mouth for anything other than licking Sokka’s nipples.

It doesn’t take a terrible long time for Sokka to get antsy though, because when he wants a sad fuck he doesn’t really mean he wants it long and slow and sappy. He’s really more of a “let’s get this done so we can go again” type of guy, and while he can be _persuaded_ into some of Zuko’s wussy “love making” nonsense every once in a while, tonight is not that night.

Zuko hisses when he sinks down onto him, hands splayed out on Sokka’s thighs. Sokka thanks years of goalie training and yoga as he braces his right hand on the back of the couch and rocks his hips. Zuko’s head drives back into a cushion and he bites his lip, fingers digging into Sokka’s legs.

So maybe Sokka does take it kind of slow after all, enjoying the sight of Zuko, still fully clothes, beneath him. He’s also a pretty big fan of the aching fullness and the hand he’s got on his own cock, but those things feel secondary right now.

He has more important things to think about.

Zuko’s eyes finally open again, and they’re big and glassy and dark, his breath coming short and sharp.

“You’re an asshole,” he grits out, fingers flexing.

“Yup,” Sokka says cheerfully, grinding down and groaning. “ _Your_ asshole.”

“Are you seriously going to start laughing at your own jokes during sex?” Zuko says, but he looks resigned rather than surprised.

“Get it? Cause I’m actually nowhere near your asshole, but you’re in _my_ —“

“I get it, Sokka, jeez,” Zuko flushes, and Sokka leans down to kiss him. The fact that Zuko doesn’t like to talk about sex even when they’re _having_ sex is adorable.

“You should ask me nicely,” Sokka sucks his lower lip into his mouth.

“Ask what nicely?” Zuko asks, eyes narrowed even as he pants against Sokka’s mouth.

“If you want me to go faster,” Sokka says.

“I didn’t say—ngh oh god,” he bows up from the couch, and Sokka grins toothily because there is nothing that makes Zuko come faster than him doing—

“That, do that again,” Zuko begs, and Sokka obliges, letting go of his own dick to lean back and rest his hands on Zuko’s thighs, fucking himself up and down with abandon.

Zuko, ever the thoughtful lover, takes up where Sokka left off, jacking him in time to his movements, twisting his wrist a little to get a better angle, hand a little erratic as he gets close. Sokka waits until he’s almost to the brink before he _really_ gets going (moaning obscenely to get the neighbors pissed) and contracts all of the muscles he can think of until Zuko is shouting his name and practically convulsing beneath him.

“Aren’t you gonna…?” Zuko flops back on the couch and gestures limply at Sokka’s dick.

Sokka had sort of forgotten about it. Zuko is still inside of him, and he eases forward, splaying out over Zuko’s body. He feels oddly satisfied, and incredibly tired.

“Sex isn’t always about orgasms, Zuko,” he says sagely.

“With you it is,” Zuko says, and Sokka smacks him.

“Lies! Filthy lies! Take it back!” he shrieks, and then decides to be evil. “It’s really about getting cum on your best suit,” he says with relish, and Zuko sits bolt upright.

“Oh shit!” he shoves Sokka off of himself and tries to run to the laundry room, but his post-orgasm legs are too wobbly.

Sokka, amidst peals of laughter, manages to yell, “Don’t hurt yourself! You’re starting on Saturday!” before he completely loses his cool.

Zuko, cursing from the laundry room, sticks his head back into view, “If you get cum on my couch, I swear to god—“

“You’ll stop loving me?” Sokka snorts, then goes very still.

“Uh,” Zuko steps back out into the room, and they’re completely silence for a few seconds. “Well, no, I wouldn’t say that…” he mumbles. “I’d still, you know…”

“ZUKO LOVES A BO-OY!” Sokka propels himself up from the couch and starts dancing around the room. Zuko, still in his socks, button up, and boxers, looks horrified at the spectacle of nude-Sokka doing the Macarena.

“Stop it,” he whispers, but Sokka will not be deterred.

“ZUKO LOVES A BOY,” he yells, and kisses him. “It’s ok,” he pulls back a second later. Zuko looks shell-shocked. “The boy loves you back.” He only gives Zuko a second to look relieved before he adds, “But he totally got a cum stain on your couch.”

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betaed because I was too upset to make them read it, so let me know about typos. 
> 
> Come find me on that one website, I'm multi-fandom trash with a heart of gold and a soul full of sin :-)  
> [beersforqueers on tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


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